


When we break we'll wait for our miracle

by princessfart



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessfart/pseuds/princessfart
Summary: A short story of the shared life of Chirrut and Baze.





	

**Author's Note:**

> all the title chapters come from the song two headed boy #2 by neutral milk hotel.   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gkAF5_UOj8

**1\. In your heart there´s a spark that just creams.**

Chirrut Imwe sat in his bed, blankets spread all over his legs. He was just waking up, getting used again to the sounds of the Guardians, the chanting and prayers of the monks,the prayers unheard outside in the city, the conmotion and life. Smoke and holy water. The force buzzing through. 

J edha was loud and alive, full of movement and sound. Sounds that could guide him everywhere. At times, another monk joined him. He was good at preaching, he was great at fighting, still: someone always came with him. They didn't trust that a blind man could come back by the sheer experience of living in the same city for more than 20 years and trust his faith in the force.

 

Chirrut suspected he was alone in it at times, but still, everyone in the temple believed in it, protected it, even. There were tales of horrors beyond Jedha, horrors untold persisted in his head day and night, his faith had a direction: the force had lead him into a life of believing there was hope, there was a path unseen that he could follow, a safe path full of wisdom and reflection. 

 

He was a guardian. His role was to protect. Protect the city, the crystals, his faith, the unwavering hope of the monks that still believed. The legacy of the Jedi.

  
  


**II .** **In a struggle to find secret songs that you keep wrapped in boxes so tight**

 

Life was full of opportunities missed by timing.

 

Baze Malbus knew this. Every day of his life was wasted, or at least he felt that way. Jedha was a small planet. Things were getting worse everyday , sure, it was a holy city but only a fool would hope there was something else for them outside now that the New Order laid down their gross paws on Jedha. Whatever was holy was now tainted. He was stuck in a hopeless reminder of the future he could've had.

 

So he joined the guardians, at first it was a decent job, he could pretend he believed in the force and whatnot. Time passed by, and he became devoted to them, or at least addicted to the small shimmer of hope he found every one at time. 

 

Also: looking at those crystals was nice, at least.

But mostly, he was lonely, everyone else either too quiet or too loud, he often went by ignored by guardians praying or guardians fighting. It was impossible to focus on one thing at times, at least for him. He felt hopeless.

 

**III. And in my dreams you're alive and you're crying**

 

“You know i can walk you know, i know how to get back”

Baze couldn't help but roll his eyes back to his head, Chirrut was always this stubborn, about everything, he was persistent and decided and he very much admired him.

So Baze always walked behind him, or next to him. He noticed once other guardians walked in front of him, it seemed gross to him. Chirrut could do anything.

 

He spent hours praying , and then more hours preaching. As time went by Baze started liking it, hearing how much a man could believe in a cause, he could only wish that happened to him someday, to find something that gave him as much meaning to his life as the force gave to Chirrut. 

 

Chirrut would sit by the same place each time, offering preaching, praying for the passer-bys

 

“Do you know they are just ignoring you right?” Baze just looked up to Chirrut as he spoke to him, somehow he seemed holy to him.

 

“Tough crowd, i will probably crack them down, at some point” Chirrut looked down at him, Baze froze for a moment, the monk always seemed so serene, how could he do it?

 

“Well, Jheda is a small place. They are bound to pass again someday” Chirrut smiled and Baze froze again. There was something pure and almost beautiful about the amount of faith this man had.

 

So Baze did what he did best: crossed his arms and looked at the other side for hours.  He could do training but well....Chirrut was decent company.

 

  1. **Rings of flowers 'round your eyes**



 

Chirrut wasn't only good for praying, it turned out.

Baze proceeded to spend hours and hours of his life sparring with him, he would get his ass kicked every single time, the confidence of his friend was coming from “The Force, feel it in you my friend”.

Still, ass kicked. Face in ground. Grinning Chirrut standing in front.

However he always offered a hand afterwards.

 

The world stopped being full of possibilities because he could see them in front of him. Chirrut held an entire universe of complexities that only made him want to be better, to grow stronger, to continue adoring this man. Years passed by and things got worst outside, Baze had now a few wrinkles but still, they were young men. The universe was theirs.

 

At times, during training, Chirrut would hold his hand for a few seconds, Baze just left looking at the floor while Chirrut smiling. Every time it happened, Baze wanted to get better, to be a better man.

 

  1. **And Ill love you for the rest of your life when you're ready**



 

Baze found a few miracles, while the guardians started to scatter, the crystals started to fall and Jedha smelled mostly of smoke.

His heart was burning too.

Full of pain and sadness, to see the place that was his home invaded, to see the rebels screaming on the streets with more frequency, he could see stormtroopers with more frequency. The order breaking into the Temple to steal sacred objects.

His heart was burning with anger.

But there was also Chirrut´s hand on his chest when he woke up at night sweating from nightmares, his lips on his mouth when he cried before sleep, his hand on his as they walked in the market. Everything was quiet when he was around.

 

There was chaos and death, there was Chirrut holding him at nights and hearing his voice preaching about the force. There was holding hands and watching fires, there were funerals, there were runaways, there was his heart belonging to a man who was his friend.

 

There was believing in Chirrut, as if he was the force made a man.

 

  1. **And you left with your head filled with flame**



 

Baze hated himself.

Every time he walked by in the ruins of the city that was his home he could remember Chirrut pleading, it felt so wrong, to hear his voice asking him with the same strength it preached, asking him to stay.

But Baze had priorities, that were mostly keeping him safe.

 

So Chirrut stayed behind, but he was always at the same place. 

No hard feelings, at least it felt that way, he could still go back and sit next t

o him, when the Order swarmed in he would sit next to him, hoping they would ignore this god of a man.

 

But then, he had to left. He had a job. A man to kill. A place to spend sleepless nights, full of terror.

 

Full of missing. 

 

**VII. I'm still wanting my face on your cheek**

 

The city was destroyed.

The crystals were gone.

The guardians lived in the streets.

But Chirrut remained.

So he came back, stayed at his side. Prayed for forgiveness in silence.

 

It came in the form of hugs at night, of kisses on his face as he cried. Of tender whispers.  The hands that he knew when they were soft and young were now rough and wrinkled, and did they make miracles.

 

**IIX. God is a place where some holy spectacle lies**

 

And then he died on the war.

Jedha was gone. He got on the plane with a girl that believed that there was a future and a captain who would follow her anywhere. And Chirrut went on, he could feel it on the force.

 

That meant he went along, as well.

 

As they ran from the Order in Scarrif, he had never seen a beach before. The water, the sand. Their was a moon of holy and sacred and sand, mostly. Chirrut would smell it, probably. Somehow he could feel it, at least he hoped.

 

They ran for their life but the way they held hands meant there was no way out, the clawing and strength, the lingering smiles and hands on their face. The losing, the losing, the hoping she would get there. There was a revenge for their moon, for the future both of them lost, for the lives and for everything. Baze´s mind was a circle of ideas.

 

And then Chirrut went on, became a hero, died chanting a prayer. I am one with the force and the force is one with me, how many times did he hear him, in his entire life, say those words?

 

They never hurt as much as they did that day.

 

He knew death was coming after him.

When it did, he could see his lifeless body from away.

His heart was always going to belong to him, he smiled because he knew…

 

He was one with him. 


End file.
